Namesakes
by ReadyFred-ReadyGeorge
Summary: Harry introduces a Six-Month old Albus Potter to the portraits of his namesakes. Part 2 of the 'Portraits' series.


**AN: Someone actually beta'd me! At long last **** Thank you very much 'My Dear Professor McGonagall' for applying a much-needed red pen to my ramblings **

**This is a short fic that came to me whilst reading 'Oh Harry' by the aforementioned author, though it is my own work. I'm thinking of making a series of fics centred around the theme of Portraits, allowing characters to live on in ink form after their deaths in canon, (I enjoy AU's every now and again, but somehow I can never bring myself to write one. It's weird I know.) **

**Please Review and let me know what you think **

September 2005

It had been over seven years since the last time Harry had set foot in the Headmaster's office. Headmistress' office, he corrected himself. But when he stepped across the threshold, had Harry not known any better, he could have sworn that the war had just ended. Entering the office was like crossing through a rift in time. As though some ethereal artist had painted Harry's memories onto a giant canvas.

It didn't matter that the Pensieve had been moved closer to the desk, or a couple of portraits had been shifted about to clear some wall space for new arrivals. There was the spot where the Weasleys had huddled together as he haltingly reported Nagini's attack on Arthur. There was the drawer in which Dumbledore had kept the ruin of Tom Riddle's Diary and Marvolo Gaunt's ring. There was the spot where Cornelius Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, John Dawlish, Percy Weasley and, unfortunately, Kingsley Shacklebolt had all been knocked out cold. There was the table that Harry had overturned when Dumbledore finally told him the truth about the prophecy.

There were too many memories, too much history tied lovingly to this room for it ever to truly change—at least as far as Harry could see. He could even forgive the fact that Fawkes' perch was gone, though he couldn't help but spare a sorrowful thought for the elegant bird. In fact, the only part of this room that indicated that any time had passed was the six-month-old baby nestled protectively in Harry's arms.

Albus Potter slept soundly, unaware of the room's past life, or that his father was _the_ Harry Potter, instead of just 'Daaaa.' He knew nothing of what this particular office meant for his father's legacy. Harry heard a faint chuckle and looked up into a pair of familiar eyes, twinkling behind ever-present half-moon spectacles. He gazed out from his portrait with all of the warmth he'd had in life. In all honesty, Harry had rarely seen Albus Dumbledore look quite so happy.

'It's been quite a long time, my boy,' said the old man, smiling from one artfully rendered ear to the other. Harry returned the smile.

'Yeah, I guess so, Professor.' Harry knew he could have picked better words, but Dumbledore's broad smile told him that nothing more needed to be said. Carefully, trying not to wake his sleeping son, Harry trod gently over to the portrait, which hung directly adjacent to McGonagall's desk. Holding the baby up so that Dumbledore could see him, he said,

'His name is Albus.'

Harry didn't look up for several seconds, partly because he wasn't entirely sure how Dumbledore would react, but mostly because every time he clapped eyes on either of his children, Harry never wanted to look away. But when he did risk a glance upward, he couldn't help but be taken aback. Never before had he seen Dumbledore look quite as shocked as he did now. In fact, Harry experienced a split-second's terror that he had somehow taken offence. And then slowly, gently, almost teasingly, the twinkle returned to his eyes.

'You know, Harry,' began Dumbledore, clearly fighting hard to keep the mirth out of his voice, 'I must be honest with you—I had heard an entirely anonymous rumour about the boy,' Dumbledore inclined his head in the direction of Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait, whose occupant had taken a sudden interest in the brushwork on his painted shoes. 'But I must say, I had trouble believing it.' He smiled. 'After all, who names a child Albus these days?'

Harry couldn't help but chuckle and shrug in agreement.

'But,' he fixed Harry with a knowing look, 'I have never been so honoured by anything.' Dumbledore's smile was luminous, and he raised an eyebrow. 'Now, does dear Albus have a middle name? Certainly, combining Percival, Wulfric, and Brian was all the rage in my time, but it seems a tad long-winded for the youth of today.'

Harry's breath caught in his throat, and he was suddenly aware of a second pair of eyes piercing into him. He didn't need to turn around to know who was looking.

'Severus,' he said calmly. 'Albus Severus Potter.' Harry heard a strangled sort of gasp from behind him, but he didn't turn around right away. He had thought about this moment for some time, and had come to an important conclusion.

Severus Snape would never like him; he had long since accepted that. What he truly wanted from this encounter was understanding, not friendship. Just for once, he wanted Snape to realise that he, Harry, was not simply James Potter's son, nor the boy who had needed the protection Snape had failed to provide for Lily. He wanted to show his gratitude, and to show Snape, for the first time, the true Harry Potter.

Slowly, little Albus opened his eyes. Harry bounced him gently, eliciting a playful gurgle. He reached up a tiny hand to Harry, who let him grip his little finger and waggle it. Slowly, Harry turned around, only slightly, so that Albus was directly in the portrait's line of sight. In the corner of his eye, Harry saw the look that passed over Snape's face as he took in the baby's eyes, blue at the time of his birth, but now a very recognisable shade of green.

At last, Snape met Harry's eyes and nodded slightly.

'Potter.'

Harry returned the nod.

'Professor.'

Nothing more was said, nothing else had to be. Harry went to the door, but paused and glanced back at Dumbledore once more. He nodded and smiled. As Harry was about to close the door behind him, he noticed Albus waving his tiny hand in the general direction of the portrait he'd just visited. Harry grinned and closed the door, but before he could get downstairs, he heard a few muffled words from within the office.

'Is that a tear I see Severus?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

**AN: If I do another one of these (which is fairly likely) It'll either be about Lily and James or Remus and Tonks. If anybody reviews, let me know which one you'd like **

**Good luck with anybody taking exams at the minute, mine are about to start and I am petrified **

**Best wishes to all, reviews are love **

**RFRG**


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